It’s only two minutes, but I struggle. My fingers fidget as if my thoughts are pounding the last miles of a half-marathon. The tug of war between noise and stillness. For 120 seconds, this is what happens inside my head. I need to get milk. Be quiet, you are trying to meditate. Do I need to call the dentist to make my daughter’s appointment? Shut-up. Focus on the present. You are trying to calm your mind. Stillness, remember. When will this be over? I want to open my eyes. Does meditation even matter? With that final thought, my attempt to meditate for two minutes is over. I sigh that heavy sigh, like I’ve carried a piano on my back. In the very next minute, I breathe a little deeper, feeling a wisp of air bubble in my stomach.
Why is this hard? Why am I afraid of stillness?
My recent attempt to meditate is not an unfamiliar practice. I attended a meditation class a few years ago in a hot room that looked like a vacant parking lot. Sitting down meant taking a colored yoga mat from the corner, placing it on the floor, and crossing my legs. As soon as my body hit the floor, I noticed the bare beige walls with chipped paint as the only decorative embellishment. The goal was simple. We were required to meditate for thirty minutes. There were no indicators of time, other than the meditation leader’s cue to stop.
The idea of doing nothing in an empty room overwhelmed me. I understood that meditation meant I must embrace stillness, but my focus was centered on time and how to utilize it. As a part of my daily routine, I compose to-do lists. On any given day of the week, there are at least ten items listed that may require my attention. The all-important red line of ink that moves across my own words gives me a quiet sense of satisfaction. It means completed, finished and represents an accomplished goal. I’ve spent much of my life that way, creating tasks and working toward completing them. When I fail to accomplish a certain task, I consider it a personal failure. I judge my own to-do list and what I haven’t achieved.
Because meditation’s goal cannot be immediately realized or since there is no category to “cross-out,” I struggle with it. I dictate a time limit on my meditation, not so I can move toward stillness, but so that I can “say” I met the goal of achieving a certain time period of nothingness. In reality, my mind reeks of clutter, of noise, of words that betray the silence.
When the thirty minute meditation class ended years ago, a discussion would follow. The words of the instructor still ring in my ears—”Don’t judge the meditation.” Meditation shouldn’t have a goal because it shatters the concept of stillness. She urged everyone to accept where they were in their respective meditation practice. The ultimate focus, after all, is to create a gap of space that allows you to return to a place of complete calm and peace.
My urge now to revisit meditation comes from a desire to release the clutter that inhabits my mind. I realized that resuming a thirty-minute meditation session did not quench my restlessness, but heightened it. That’s why I’ve decided to try to capture stillness for only two minutes. When my eyes close, the to-do list pops up in my head. I squash it. I tell myself I am not there yet, but I quickly take those words back. The lesson from my earlier meditation session makes more sense:
Meditation doesn’t belong on a to-do list.
Parts of this post appeared originally on The First Day.
Image: time in Gilding Temple by ecodallaluna via Flickr
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
You are not alone in working through the challenges of presence to the present. Sometimes it helps to to focus on the moment when I engage both my mind and body in unison (yoga, dance, Pilates). Thank you for you inspirational thoughts today. Trish
Trish,
Focusing on the moment takes tremendous practice and I hope to build it slowly with meditation. It is always a work in progress. Thanks for your insights.
So true. It doesn’t belong on a to-do list and I totally put it there!
I’m terrible at stillness. I’m fidgety and anxious and strange sometimes. Every now and then it clicks and it’s so wonderful.
I wish I could do that consistently.
I also have moments of stillness, but nothing that is sustained. One day, I hope for both of us!
Spiritual work is just that, at times, isn’t it? Work.
Important work for our souls.
I know when I attain stillness through practice and practice – it’s worth the work.
Joyful work.
Barb,
Thanks for your words. Yes, it is work. And the patience needs to accompany those places of difficulty. It’s similar to writing – got to get the draft out before you get to the real writing. It is persistence which prevails. I need to remember that in difficult moments. Appreciate your encouragement.
I remember about your attempt to meditate and loved the post. This, though, is so relatable and I needed to read it right now: “a thirty-minute meditation session did not quench my restlessness, but heightened it.” This is the case with me. People tell me that it’s not true–it doesn’t work that way but it really does. For me. Thanks for sharing this.
Glad I am not alone, Sarah. The quiet is sometimes too much for me and it appears I need to recover from the meditation. I am going to keep continuing to attempt meditation because there are so many benefits from this kind of stillness.
Two minutes is long in and of itself! Bravo! Thirty minutes sounds like some sort of punishment if one hasn’t spent years in working up to it.
That’s a great way to look at it, Kristi. Build up slowly instead of becoming a meditation guru instantly. Thanks for your perspective.
I too so relate to this, Rudri. For me, mediation so often has felt like trying…and failing. Years I have pushed myself to it because I thought I should. I put it on my to-do list and crossed it dutifully off whenever I could force myself to do it. But, recently there’s been a shift for me. I’m relaxing into the fact that monkey mind is real, and so when I notice it, I just notice it. And then gently bring my focus back to breath. I don’t manage this all the time. But enough that mediation is back on my to-do list and it’s there now because I want to encourage myself to show up, to give myself the gift of a few moments when I honor stillness even if I don’t find myself in it. Thank you for this reflective and honest piece. Your posts bring me to think on things I value in my life. I look forward to them arriving in my box.
Lisa,
I appreciate you sharing your personal journey regarding meditation. You raise a good point of writing meditation down on your to-do list to encourage you to show up. I believe there is so much value in moving toward goals/objectives we write down in our lists and journals. Thanks for offering a different perspective, as well as the kind words about my pieces. Grateful for your praise. Thank you.